tales of the domestic

Archive for the ‘play’ Category

Our bumshuffling baby is really no longer a baby. At eighteen months he has decided that he is finally up on his feet.

I thought it lovely that he was pushed trolley dolly style in the walker by the big girl until this was all he accepted as a mode of transport except for the speedy bumshuffle. The trolley was definitely not for walking according to the wee man. Feet were lovely but not for walking on. Tickling yes, raspberrying yes, kicking yes …. walking NO.

The visit to Cornwall tipped the balance of our toddling fate. They have a very battered, very loved horse on wheels which my mum fished out of the cupboard for the little boy and he decided that he would deign to get up on his toes for this. Off he trotted.

Back up north, he viewed our inferior trolley askance and then bumshuffled off before finally tiptoeing back hauling the trolley in front of him. Now a trip to the shoe shop has done the trick and off he totters, hand held or trolley pushed. My baby no more.

The small boy mumbles in true northern mumbling style. He has found his voice and is as chatty as his sister, though not quite as loud. As yet no one can understand a thing he says. But the small boy is definitely communicating with a story to tell and questions to ask. Bilingual babble? Dutch or English?

In the mornings he and the big girl chatter to each other as they lie in bed and shrieks and giggles come from their room. The husband and I lie comatosed in bed listening to them and it is lovely to hear so long as it isn’t just when the dawn chorus is beginning. This morning the big girl took her duvet and collection of favourite toys and camped next to the babe’s cot which took the excitement to a whole new level and along with it a whole new level of noise.

The weather has been hot and sultry. Yesterday afternoon was just brewing for a storm to come and come it did. First the rumblings of thunder and a few flashes of lightning disguised in the clouds, followed by overhead roars and bangs that made the big girl jump and giggle. Finally there was a deluge of huge rain; big, warm, fat raindrops. And then it was gone as soon as it had come leaving a steaming road as the water evaporated in the heat.

Once the lightning had passed the big girl was out in the garden. Leaping in the rain like a mad thing, splashing in the puddles, shrieking with joy, wearing nothing but a huge smile.

The big girl had a great time in nursery as they were having a party celebrating the end of a long, involved and fun project. This was followed by her bestest’s friends birthday party. Oh the excitement of life. How full can a little girl’s life get. On the way home I picked the small boy from the child minder. He wasn’t particularly at all pleased to see me, just concerned that he hadn’t had his tea yet and I was late and he was hungry with a capital H and did I really absolutely know that and he would really appreciate food RIGHT now, even if only the merest crust of dried bread.

The little man and big girl have discovered a great game. I put the still not remotely crawling babe in the trolley and his sister zooms him round the flat. Both of them yell at the top of their voices and have a whale of a time. I’m sure trolleys were intended to encourage tots to walk but this seems a great alternative and thus far it hasn’t ended in tears. I’m waiting though.

We have been beset by illnesses AGAIN – how does this happen so regularly? The big girl was properly ill for about ten days after which myself, the wee man, and the husband followed suit. My carefully planned Easter break and lovely bank holidays were spent with most of the household in bed clutching bowls and feeling grim. Added to all of this we have been house hunting and after interrupted and prolonged happenings I think we’ve done it. Well the first bit at least, in that we’ve found a house and hopefully on the road to having sold ours … am I tempting fate writing this? The little man turned one and we celebrated on the beach, much to his approval and vast consumption of an interesting birthday meal of sand and seaweed followed by fish and chips. The final bit to the madness of the mumblings household is that I survived my return to work, dull though it is. In summary I think we need a holiday.